Ninjin
by Ly
Summary: What would have happened if Raditsu hadn’t been killed on Earth? Instead, he killed Son, and returned to the other Saiya-jin, Gohan in tow. Bejiita has allowed Tares, a known conspirator against his father’s crown, and his group of refugees to join th


Gohan1

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_"Death observes no ceremony."~ John Wise  
  
"Murder is always a mistake. One should never do anything that one cannot talk   
about after dinner." ~ Oscar Wilde   
  
"While I thought that I was learning how to live, I have been learning how   
to die."~ Leonardo da Vinci  
  
"The bitterest tears shed over graves are for words left unsaid and deeds left   
undone. "~ Harriet Beecher Stowe   
_

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**Chapter One: Lucky Brake, Broken Home**  
  


  
"One last chance Kakarotto. Will you join us?"  
  
Son Goku tried to find the breath to tell his brother no, that the Saiya-jin were monsters and he'd rather die than be counted in their number, but Raditsu`s foot was on his chest, pushing the ribs he'd deliberately broken against Son's lungs, constricting them. Instead, he shook his head.  
  
Raditsu face flashed indecision for a brief second, then darkened with rage. Let the traitor die then, he wasn't going to beg. "That's too bad, little brother."  
  
Son`s last thought was that he couldn't let himself die. What would happen to everybody else if he died? But of course he did die. With his greatest enemy turned temporary ally looking on helplessly, and his son, who wasn't as helpless as everyone thought, sat bawling only a few hundred yards away. Son Goku died.  
  
Raditsu turned his back on the corpse. He fired a blast at Piccolo, the Namek-jin dropped. This had all been ridiculously easy. Raditsu didn`t know what would have happened if he'd run the other way from Son's Kamehameha, toward his ship instead of from it. He had made the decision in a split second. There`d been almost no mental consideration involved, but it would change the course of history.  
  


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Gohan had heard Piccolo cry out when Raditsu`s attack hit him, but that was the only thing he heard. He was too far away and ship's walls were too thick for his father's screams to reach him. He never saved his father at the crucial moment and now his father could no longer save him. Kamisama help us all...   
  


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Raditsu opened the hatch of his ship. He took Gohan out and set him on the ground beside the ship. "Stay there." Raditsu turned back to the ship and Gohan bolted. Raditsu caught him by the collar of his shirt and lifted the wimpering boy off the ground. "I`m this close to killing you, boy!" Raditsu held his empty hand up, two fingers spaced half an inch apart. "Now stay there!" He dropped the boy on the ground. Gohan landed on his butt and immediately resumed crying.  
  
The seat in Raditsu`s ship was on a hinge. He lifted it and took out two strips of white cloth and a small dagger. He put Gohan back in the ship, closed the hatch, and head back across the plain.to Son's body.   
  
Such a man could be admired, he thought,looking down at it, able to die like that, without fear, even for the wrong reasons. Raditsu was willing to admit at least some of this mess was his fault. Brain damage aside, if he'd come sooner he might have been able to set his little brother right before there had been any permanent damage. He'd known Kakarotto was on this planet, but while they'd been under Furiza, he hadn't been willing to fetch Kakarotto back just so he could watch the remnants of his race lick the Ice-jin`s boots, but now Bejiita said they were finally going to kill Furiza and take over his kingdom. The Saiya-jin would be avenged. Kakarotto, with some training, could have been of great help, had he been willing. Still, there could be no forgiveness for traitors. He bent over the corpse and wiped the blood Son had vomited from around his mouth and chin with the white headband, then the rest of his face. It was an arcane ritual, based deeply in ancient superstitions, bull shit probably, but you couldn't be too careful with things pertaining to the Afterlife, he'd fulfill his fraternal duties before leaving. He finished soaking the second cloth in the gaping hole in Son's chest, and set one of the clothes aside. Raditsu took the dagger and cut a small slit in the palm of his hand. He made a fist around the now crimson cloth, mingling his blood with Son`s. They said the skins of animal had been used for things like this, and almost everything else, as recently as two generations ago. Out from under the sand for two generations, then gone. He sighed and headed back to the ship.  
  
Once again, Raditsu took Gohan of the space ship. He opened the seat compartment, and put one of the bloody headbands in with a pile of others.  
  
"Give me your hand." Gohan immediately clamped them behind his back, guessing something unpleasant was coming. Raditsu grabbed an arm and wrenched it to the front.  
  
"Stop it! That hurts!" This brouhaha was nothing compared to Gohan`s reaction when he saw the dagger.  
  
"If you want me to cut wrong, say here," Raditsu pointed at Gohan`s wrist with the knife, "or here," to the two large veins in the palm of Gohan`s hand. "By all means, keep struggling. Of course then you'll bleed to death, and I couldn't do anything to stop it, not that I would try." Gohan held still, whimpering, while Raditsu nicked his palm with the knife. "I don`t need this shit." He said, more to himself than Gohan. He curled Gohan`s fingers around the cloth. "Your father was a traitor. Still, he was our blood. We're in mourning." Raditsu finshed and Gohan, disgusted by it, let the still moist cloth drop to the ground. Raditsu picked it up and shoved it in his hands. "You're to keep that."  
  
"Why? It's nasty!" Gohan`s whimpering graduated to all out wailing. "I want my mommy and daddy--" Raditsu cuffed him upside the head, silencing his plea.  
  
"Shut up! We're going now."  
  
"Where?" And where was his daddy? Why hadn't he beat this stranger up and taken him home yet? This wasn`t fair! Gohan hadn't before considered his father had been defeated. His daddy was the strongest man on earth, and that wasn't childish fancy, it was true. A harsh, dark thought began to form in the back of Gohan`s gentle mind.  
  
Raditsu picked Gohan up, he fought back, kicking and screaming. You weren't supposed to go with Strangers. Strangers were Bad. His mommy had told him if a stranger tried to take him he was supposed to do anything he could to slow him down until his daddy came. He want to go home now. What was taking his daddy so long anyway?  
  
Raditsu cuffed him again. "Stop it or I`ll kill you!"  
  
He climbed inside the ship, Gohan in tow, closed the hatch, launched it.  
  
Gohan starred out the purple tinted glass at the retreating ground, looking frantically for some way to stall. They were almost in orbit when he said, in a voice he hoped was convincing, "I gotta go potty."  
  
Of course he did. Didn`t they always? "Hold it."  
  
"But I can't!"  
  
Of course he couldn't. "Fine." He turned the ship around. The last thing he needed was the kid wetting himself inside the cramped ship. Actually, the last thing he needed was the brat, but if they were going to beat Furiza they needed every fighter they could get, and Bejiita be pissed if he came back alone. Kakarotto`d been a lost clause, if the life of his son wasn't enough to coerce him into taking a little jaunt on some weaker world, he could never be convinced to take on Furiza. The brat couldn't be blamed for his parentage; Raditsu would judge his worth by his own merit. Had he really read a combat level of 700?  
  
The ship slammed into the Earth, leaving a twin a few yards from the original crater.  


  
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Buruma heard the sonic boom from over a hundred miles away. She jumped inadvertently, momentarily lost control of the jet, and narrowly missed crashing into one of the nearby mountains. "Sorry, guys," she said to Muten Roshi and Kuririn. "Wonder what that was?"  
  
Kuririn had been staring out the window blankly. The sound of Raditsu`s ship   
re-entering Earth's atmosphere startled him out of his daze. "How much longer, Buruma?"  
  
"It's going to be at least another twenty minutes."  
  


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"See that rock over there?" He pointed to a large stone, about seven feet high and twice as long, in the opposite direction from Son's body. "Go over there. If you go any farther, or try to run away, I`ll kill you. You believe me?"  
  
"Yes, sir." Gohan said flatly. That was exactly what he`d been planing to do. Didn`t his daddy know he needed help?  
  
"Smart boy." Raditsu said. Then; "Hurry up!" Brat was high maintenance, but he did seem to have natural understanding of his place, even if was directed only by fear and not loyalty. It would be bad to return from this little venture empty handed. It would be much worst to return with a worthless half breed who wouldn't show the proper respect to the prince. Bejiita`d kill them both.  
  
Raditsu`s thoughts shifted from Kakarotto`s son to Kakarotto himself. Son Goku. Kakarotto or Son Goku? Raditsu decided bitterly that his little brother had made the choice for himself. He went to his ship, opened the seat compartment, and pulled out a small metal box. He opened it and began hunting through its contents. Raditsu took out a small device, the color of nickel, about half an inch high and as big around as his thumb. There was a button on it's side. He pushed it. A faultless image of a naked baby with a long tail covered by soft brown fur, and wild, jet black hair that leaned to the left, cried silently and waved his chubby fist. Kakarotto. Kakarotto never existed. Raditsu threw the image of Son Goku across the plain. It landed on Son's cooling neck, slide down his dead chest and inside his gi. Raditsu returned the box and turned around. "All right! Lets go!"  
  
Gohan was standing halfway between the ship and stone. He`d decided he wouldn't move. He absolutely_ would not_ move. The bully couldn't make him. Raditsu picked the struggling boy up, and carried him as easily as a piece of kindling, back to the ship. "This grow`s old, boy." The pod exploded out of Earth`s atmosphere and into space. Gohan wouldn't be back for a long, long time.  


  
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**15 Minutes Later.**  


  
The jet flew within sight of the battle field. Kuririn pressed his face against the glass, straining to see the ground below. Muten Rosi was leaning over himself in a seat, with his hands clasped in his lap, fretting internally for his favorite student.  
  
"Who's down?" Buruma demanded.   
  
"Goku and Piccolo!" Kuririn said, not believing his words or eyes. He tried to find some feasible reason for his childhood friend to be laying on the ground like that. Maybe he'd killed Raditsu, then Piccolo, then he'd been sleepy so he'd laid down for a nap. That almost sounded like something Goku would do, but it didn`t explain all the blood.  
  
"Guys, where's Goku`s brother? Can you see him?" Buruma could barely make out the two craters. "Did he leave?" As she lowered the jet, Son and Piccolo, laying still and on the ground, came within her field of vision. "Oh God no." She said, voice flat with shock. Then frantically; "Where's Gohan? Guys, did he take Gohan with him?"  
  
"No." Kuririn said. "He's hiding, or he got killed." The only alternative was unthinkable.  
  
Buruma landed the jet. She and Kuririn ran to Goku, Rosi followed at a stunned pace. Son wasn't there. His corpse was there, sure, but it was nothing more than a broken and empty box, a shell. Goku had already left.  
  
Buruma stopped short, unable to go any farther. Son was dead. The thought replayed over and over in her mind. Son's dead Son's dead Son's dead.  
  
Muten Roshi turned her away. He was so deeply overwhelmed he did something he had never in his life done before; he missed a perfectly good chance to cop a feel.  
  
Kuririn fell to his knees beside Son and felt for a pulse he knew he won't find. It was kind of hard to have a pulse when your heart was missing (or most of your left lung, for that matter.) "Goku, we'll wish you back." He said, either not noticing the tears that were running down his face or not caring. "We'll find the Dragonballs and wish you--"   
  
Buruma screamed. Kuririn jumped to his feet and ran toward her, thinking Raditsu hadn't left at all, he was right over there and hurting Buruma.  
  
Raditsu was long gone. Buruma was starring at something on the ground. Kuririn saw what it was, balked, made himself swallow his fear, only for Goku, and went to action. Piccolo was laying on the ground, face down, barely breathing, unconscious, his left arm missing below the shoulder.  
  
Kuririn turned Piccolo over, and saw that his chest was badly burned. "Buruma, we've got to get him to a hospital!"  
  
"Hospital? Hospital! Kuririn, do you know what that monster could do now that Son's dead?"  
  
"Goku`s not going to stay dead. The Dragonballs, Buruma! We can wish him back, but not if Piccolo dies!" Kuririn picked Piccolo up, quite a balancing act for someone so short, and headed for the jet. "See if you can find Gohan."  
  
Piccolo stirred. Kuririn wanted very badly to drop him and run away, came close to doing just that, but then what would happen to Goku? "That kidnaper took Son's boy with him. They came back." Piccolo chuckled, low and painfully. "The boy had needs to be met." Buruma and Kuririn looked at each other, mutually confused. "They're gone again." Piccolo's eyes rolled back in his head and he went limp.  
  


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Mr. Popo sat by Kamisama`s bedside, ringing his hands. Son and Piccolo must have gotten into it again, it was the only answer. What could you do when God needed help?  
  
He'd been tending his garden contentedly when it happened. Kami`d been standing by the edge of the palace, looking down on Earth with the look he always had when something that pleased him was happening below. Then his face had darkened, became more troubled than Popo had seen him in years. Half an hour later Kami had clenched his left arm. Mr. Popo had ran over to him and asked what was wrong, but Kami had only shook his head and continued to stare intently at the Earth. Mr. Popo had gone away, looking for some chore to occupy his troubled mind. Kami had slumped over a few minutes later. Popo had, for a tense, horrible moment, thought he would tumble off the edge, but thankfully he'd fallen the other way. Mr. Popo had managed to get Kami into bed, he hadn't moved since.  


  
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Kuririn laid Piccolo on the floor of the jet. He went around to the back hatch, where Buruma kept a few things, blankets and the like, took one out.  
  
Kuririn walked slowly, less willing to do this next thing than he had been to aid the demon, but what else could be done, leave Goku`s body on the plain to rot? He wrapped the blanket around the body and picked it up. Something fell out of the bundle and on to the ground, Kuririn picked it up and shoved it absently into his pocket. He laid Son's body beside Piccolo, and sat beside Muten Roshi in the back seat. Blood had soaked though the blanket and onto his arms and the upholstery of the jet, but there wasn't anything he could do about it right then.  
  
Buruma climbed into the pilot's seat, and called a map up on the console. "The nearest hospital is in Gaido town."  
  
"We can't take him there, Buruma!"  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"What hospital is going to amit an eight foot tall, green, uninsured demon with fangs?" Kuririn said. "You have a medical clinic at Capsule Corp., don`t you?"  
  
"I don`t want that monster three buildings away from my bedroom window!"  
  
Piccolo stirred, more likely disturbed by the loud arguing than Buruma words. They watched him tensely, but he didn`t wake.   
  
"Would you rather Goku stays dead?" Kuririn said angrily, keeping his voice low.  
  
Buruma opened her cell phone without answering. She dialed a number and informed the employ that answered that she was bringing by an acquaintance that might need a little patching up. The employ was an old veteran at the clinic, and was familiar with some of the 'acquaintances' of his employer's daughter. There would be a complete trauma unit waiting for them when they reached Capsule Corporation's main compound.  
  



End file.
